The Fall
by Anacalyptic
Summary: The wall of death approaches.... A warrior attempts to make a difference in the face of certain death. As my vision fades to black as I fall into the clutches of death.... An original fabrication A/U
1. The Fall

Rocks crushed under armor clad boots, the clinking of metal armor plates colliding with one another, the noise caused by the friction of fabric, the screams of injured men, such a myriad of sounds that are all music to my ears. The battlefield is strewn with bodies, some with their souls still attached to them others the souls have long vacated. All that remain standing are a few of the members of the armored faction, and the wall of dark creatures conjured up from the depths of hell. My armor has lost its luster, tarnished with the blood of enemies and allies alike, coupled with the dirt and grime and I am a sight to behold. My once blonde hair, now matted to my forehead with blood and grime, is a tribute to the sad sight that I have become.

The rumbling of a stampede reaches my ears. As I raise my head to look at the source I had not noticed that my eyes had dropped to the ground. The wall of foul detestable creatures was charging forward towards the remains of the army and myself. A mercenary for hire, a shallow being whose only purpose in this life was to fight, that is what I have become. I no longer believe in anything, my faith in otherworldly powers has long since faded. I am however not without the will to fight, for that part of me burns brightly in comparison to the dying embers of my former self. A smile appears on my face, my azure colored eyes focus, and my grip on my sword tightens.

Adrenaline fills my veins, I start to bounce on the balls of my feet. The soldiers stare at me as if I had two heads. A grunt escapes my mouth as I heft my sword from my side to over my shoulder. The blade as long as I am tall and wider than half my chest plate. Then I begin moving forward. Walking turns into jogging as the rage builds within. I let out a roar as I begin my charge towards my final battle. As I approach the wall of death, I raise my sword over my head with both hands above my head, a visible sheen of abnormal power surrounds my blade swirling faster and faster. I leap into the air high above the enemy, an acrobatic front flip comes during my decent. I roar in defiance as I slam my blade through the skull of the demon.

The amount of inertia enough to sever the monster in two, an unearthly scream accompanies its purging from the world. My blade stops before it hits the ground and I twist my body into a spin cycle releasing the energy stored in my blade. The result is everything within at least three sword lengths being incinerated. The charging wall grinds to a halt. The malice filled creatures encircle me, smart enough to stay a good distance away. The sound of a large powder fueled war machine being fired is then accompanied a large iron ball ripping the circle asunder. I race towards the hole created dragging my weapon behind me. Three demons fall to my blade in the attempt to impede my exodus from a impossible situation.

Another blast from the cannon mauls the demon forces. With enough space between myself and them I venture a glance up at the war machine. Its operators are reloading the cannon with such haste. I looked at my possible saviors only to watch in horror as blast of fire engulfed the cannon as well as the brave souls who had been firing it. The equalizer was now gone, as were the hopes of the army. I turned to face the regrouping demons, the wall replenished as if it had never been attacked. The magic wielder at the head of the horde fell back as it charged forward. My power had not returned, I took to running up the hill where the cannon once stood.

I watched in disbelief as the soldiers were extinguished by the evil. The sheer power left me intimidated, and I turned to run from the battlefield. I had not realized that hill I stood upon had no other side and all that awaited me a large drop into deep canyon. A small portion of the horde caught the my scent and charged up the hill. I met them with as much brutality as I could muster. My sword tearing through their foul flesh, I lost count of how many had fallen to my blade. They kept advancing, fresh ones replacing the expired, I was being pushed back towards the cliff edge. It is known that a good warrior always maintains awareness of his surroundings, so it is not the demon hordes that lead to my downfall. It was my own lack of awareness.

I had failed to see a remaining keg of gunpowder, which was noticed after I had cut another enemy in half. My sword struck bedrock and the sparks landed in a hole in the keg. The force of the explosion sent me flying through the air, I peaked just over the middle of the canyon and began my decent to death. Large boulders pass me on my way down crashing to whatever lies at the bottom of this canyon. My vision fades to black as I'm sure that I am in death's clutches. My only wish was that I could have made a difference and annihilated the evil hell spawn who plunged my world into darkness. I'm sorry..........


	2. Awakening

Wood crackling in a fire, muffled steps on wooden floor boards, whispers to far away to be deciphered but close enough to be heard. All sounds that shouldn't be. Nerves send pulses throughout a body, pain registers and a groan escapes from the mouth of a body. The noise alerts the other occupants of the room. A chair scraping against the floor, foot falls, more sounds no longer muffled. The pain coursing through the body, nerves transmitting information, the rise and fall of a chest. All things that should not be. Eye lids open and immediately take in the face of the other occupant in the room, stone walls, cobwebs in the corners of the ceiling joists. It is then that all of these things that shouldn't be suddenly make sense. I am alive.

It is perplexing, for I do not know why it is that I shouldn't be alive. To be perfectly honest it seems that I have lost my memory of who exactly I am. As the man stares down at me I begin to wonder what exactly led up to this point. I take in his appearance. He is certainly aged, but his body is covered with muscles and scars. By no means is he a decrepit old man, his steeled black eyes pierce into my own as he attempts to search my soul. His white facial hair that runs across his upper lip around his lower mouth and covering his chin following his jaw line to his side burns, his white hair. His upper body is clothed in a faded green sleeveless tunic, while his lower body is clad in baggy pants of the same color bundled up at the knees. I notice his tan complexion, and nothing comes to mind.

I make a move to sit up immediately forcing signals of pain to venture from my nerves across synapses to my central nervous system. The ensuing out cry from pain exits my mouth as my body writhes. "Blessed by the Goddesses to survive the fall. However they surely forgot to bless you with brains." His voice deep and coarse. If I hadn't been in so much pain I'd be laughing in agreement. He rose to his full height and crossed his arms, his lips pursed together. I supposed I should thank the man for finding and taking care of me, but I stopped myself from speaking and closed my lips as I had opened them. A ghost of a smile crossed his face. "Yet he learns quickly. Rest up." He turned away from me. "We can get some answers out of you later." With that he left the room. Left alone with my own thoughts, it didn't take long for sleep to claim me.

When I woke again pain did not register throughout my body. I decided that it might be possible to move from this position that I had been stuck in for who knows how long. As I slowly sat up, the sheet falling off of me, I noticed that I my torso was heavily bandaged. As I pulled the sheet off of my lower body, I found more bandages around my left upper thigh and my right knee. I stood up clad in my undergarment and looked around the room. My eyes were drawn to a mirror, to which I walked over towards to see myself. I certainly looked like a had fallen off a cliff, making sure to hit each rock during my plummet. I looked at my reflection, ferocious blue eyes stared back at me. Dirty golden blond hair framing my face and pointed ears, three blue earrings on the right ear. I would not know how to describe my face, smooth tanned complexion possibly attractive. I wouldn't know about things of that nature.

I then turned to look about the room, the fire place in the corner of the room with the bed along the adjacent wall. A table and four chairs towards the front where the door was. Two windows, one on each side of the door. A chest near the bed. However my attention was drawn towards the clothes on one of the chairs. A simple short sleeve tan tunic missing the left sleeve, and a pair tan shorts to match it. I slipped both on then noticed the brown sandals underneath, I then slipped my feet through the ankle straps and under the toe straps. The shorts length matching up with the bottom of my knees. I appraised myself in the mirror and decided that I didn't look ridiculous. With that I made my way to the door, gripped the knob, twisted the knob and pushed the door open.

As I stepped outside, I was rewarded with the mid morning sun in my face. After blinking a couple of times to allow my eyes to adjust to the sudden intrusion of light, I took a look around. Green grass covered the small field in front of the house I had exited. I noticed another building to the right of the one I had stepped out of, this one much larger in comparison. I walked across the field enjoying the sound the grass made as I stepped through it. The building had large doors in the front that I pushed open to enter. As the doors swung shut behind me, I had little time to take in my surroundings. A large piece of wood coming towards my face, I crouched then rolled to my left avoiding injury. I noticed that the wood was fashioned into a blunt striking object much like a single handed sword. An overhead slash came next, I turned my body to the side allowing the weapon to pass before my face.

I then pushed off of my right foot and spun around to the wielders back and shoved him forward. I ducked to avoid the horizontal slash heading for my head, falling backwards and rolling back before regaining my footing. I then created enough distance to venture a look around. I noticed a much larger wooden weapon leaning against the wall. I broke into a sprint towards it, gripping the handle in my hands I turned around and immediately swung the weapon diagonally from the ground to ceiling to block the incoming blow. I braced myself and shoved my attackers blade to my side, planting my weapon to the ground I sent a kick towards his chest shoving him back.

I fell into a stance my left shoulder facing him, both hands on the handle with the blade towards my right side. He charged towards me arm back to smash forward with a strike. Pushing off of my left foot and gripping my weapon in my left hand, I swing my weapon in a horizontal arc across my chest meant to smash into his body and send him flying to the side. He ducked underneath it with ease and sent a stab towards my face, causing me to bend backwards at an awkward angle to avoid it. My sword planted in the ground, shifting my weight onto my left leg as I twist my body around and change wielding hands to my right. He was anticipating my first dodge, and he had retracted his thrust and swung a horizontal slash towards me. I used the flat of my weapon to block the strike, while placing my left hand on the middle of my weapon. I then pushed forward against his blade getting close to his body.

As I attempted to spin around him, he caught me in the stomach with a firm punch causing me to almost double over. He then caught me with a kick to the chest, knocking me to my rear. Next thing I knew he had the end of his weapon pointed at my chest. It was then that I truly saw all that was around me. A large barn without any livestock in it, Two large roof openings which provided the light that the large openings on the front and rear of the building did not. I then noticed my opponent was none other than the older man with the black steeled eyes. "Do you have an idea as to why you are on the ground, and I am standing?" To my knowledge I had never picked up a sword and that seemed like a good point to reply on. However he cut me off before I could speak. "A large two handed sword is great for long distance mauling. Yet its large size makes wielding it with speed in close combat nearly impossible."

I didn't think that it was my choice of the self defense tool which had lead to my downfall. He then lowered his sword and offered me a hand up which I took. "Though you may not remember, your subconscious does remember some sort of training with a weapon of that size." He looked up with an almost wistful look on his face. "Plus you have some fantastic instincts and reflexes. Not to mention an incredible healing ability." He then turned away from me and walked out of the building. The doors swinging shut behind him, and I was left with my thoughts. Perhaps I had been a swordsman of some kind before I lost my memory. However thinking along those lines did not assist me in my quest to remember. I stood up and set my weapon against the wall again before returning to the field.

Though it felt like awhile, only a short amount of time had passed. That much was certain as the sun had barely moved a whisker in the sky. A warm breeze fell across the field, its embrace filling me with a welcome sort of calm. The man was standing not two strides away from myself, he then turned to face me. "With no memory of forms to guide your practice, it would seem that refining your preferred form of fighting style shall be rather difficult." I simply stare because I have no way of responding to his statement. He crosses his large muscular arms. "If you would like instruction on how to wield a single handed sword, I will teach you." I'm not together sure that I want to learn any sort of combat skills, conflict doesn't sit well with me. He seems to understand what I am thinking.

He sighs and looks off into the distance. "I'm not going to train you to be some military dog. However if you have forgotten your past, then you have forgotten what kind of world we live in." He returns his gaze to me. "Self defense is a must." I will just take his word for it, he makes a very valid point. All I know is that I shouldn't be alive, and that I have no memory of anything prior to waking up. I stare right into his eyes and I nod. Before I can verbalize my thoughts he speaks again. "We begin in the morning. I warn you, I am a slave driver." For some reason that brings a smile to my face. He notices my smile and responds with a the very least I can gain knowledge of the situation the world is in.

* * *

The sounds of armor being torn asunder, the squelching sound of blood emptying another solider. All seen in a sort of amber haze. The point of view retreating, garbled scenes from a memory that would much rather be forgotten. The blue sky betrays the savage reality the walls of the chasm eating away at the view of the sky and all goes black. Cobalt blue eyes snap open.

My eyes stare at the ceiling, but I am not seeing it. Flashes of brutal carnage is all that passes through my mind. I blink and the images cease to exist, parts of a memory that seems almost to dark to remember. I slowly rise from bed, tossing the covers off of myself as I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. The light from the sun slowly begins to reach the windows. Dawn has come, it is time for the morning training session. A green shirt with the right sleeve missing and a set of gray shorts set out for me the night before. It has been a week since I started my training, I have begun my learning of this one handed sword style.

I wrap my right forearm in bandages, there is no damage to my body it is just a subconscious habit. I don my clothing as well as my leather sandals before I exit the cottage. The man is waiting a good distance away from the cottage, the morning sun casts a soft glow on the field and buildings that occupy it. As I reached the man he tossed me a wooden sword, and I began to recall his philosophy on swordplay. Flashy fantastical movements or attacks will get your head separated from your body. Each one of the attacks in the styles set is basic. His style focuses on efficient movements and techniques, horizontal slashes, vertical slashes, straight forward stabs.

Flashy maneuvers such as spins, twirls, and flips are all but spit on. The only thing a back flip is good for is a quick escape from an attack aimed at the legs. It seems that my body remembers a style which was filled with over the top flips and spinning attacks. But the man never frowned upon me for having learned a style. His simple response was that those movements have no place in his style, but I was welcome to practice them when I had free time.

As always we begin the instruction with a spar. He uses it to gauge how well I learned each of the previous sessions lessons. If I am not up to par, he informs me of what I need to improve and then drills me intensely. My foot work was "horrid" and in need of serious work when I began, "moving like a barbarian carrying a huge club" was the description of my movements. I have markedly improved since then, which translates into no longer getting tossed around like yesterdays refuse.

He smirks at me, falling into a stance that is abnormal for him. His left leg stretched out in front of him, his right leg bent at the knee in a right angle. His left arm is parallel with his left leg and his right arm also at a right angle. He leaps into the air, spinning like a windmill, his sword flashing towards me at an alarming speed. There is an overwhelming desire to meet his blade with my own, to test out my strength against his own. I smirk. I raise my blade over my head, turning the flat of it to meet his sword. Just before our weapons meet I shift my body sideways, and allow his blade to hit mine and bend my body towards the ground. The result is almost comical as his blade slams into the ground. He is shocked at this, though this lasts a brief second, it is enough to allow me to point the tip of my weapon at his throat.

It was the first time I had ever seen this stone cold man smile. Not the usual smirk that accompanied his barbs, a genuine smile. I lowered my tip of my blade away from his throat. He slowly stood up and began to speak. "Excellent. I have seen you progress much faster than I would ever have thought possible." He then put his free hand on my shoulder and squeezed firmly. "Time for a change of pace, we go to town after our morning meal." Anticipation flooded my body and excitement clouded my mind. Eyes bigger than stomach it seemed.

* * *

A little delayed but my muse has returned. This is my first venture back into writing all feedback is appreciated.


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